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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957400">The Dwarven Smith and the Hobbit Who Loved Him</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haipanda/pseuds/Haipanda'>Haipanda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awkward family encounters, Bilbo is more Took than Baggins, Frodo as a fauntling, Hobbit dancing, M/M, Meddling Families, Romance, Soulmate AU, Thorin is a Softie, WanderingSmith!Thorin, fix-it-ish, hobbit parties, pre-The Hobbit movies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:54:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haipanda/pseuds/Haipanda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the heart-wrenching scene from: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/658324/chapters/2387783"> An Expected Journey, chapter 54 </a><br/>I love the crap out of this fic and the scene where Bilbo is talking about him and Thorin meeting in an alternate universe......... I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.</p><p>So. </p><p>Thorin is a wandering smith and he meets Bilbo in the Shire and they fall in love. </p><p> </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/658324">An Expected Journey</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieJacquelyn/pseuds/MarieJacquelyn">MarieJacquelyn</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun beat down on Thorin’s head as he guided his pony and cart down the winding slopes of the countryside. Summertime in the Shire was not overly hot with the clouds in the sky and cool breeze that brought with it the sound of bird calls and the smells of the earth but it was a lot warmer than the summers he remembered in Erebor.</p><p>It struck him again how different the lush green hills were to the cool grey stone halls of his youth. Nothing would echo here, he mused. He also had never been lost in the depths of the mountain - the Stone sense that all Dwarves had made sure of that. </p><p>Ahead a youngish Hobbit leaned on his gate and spoke with a gaggle of smaller Hobbit children, waving his arms around expansively and laughing when a child would speak up. After a few more exchanges the children ran off chattering and yelling. One blonde boy waved a stick in front of him and the others cheered loudly before he led the group up the hill. It struck him how alike all children were - he could remember his nephews in much the same boyhood charge.  </p><p>The Hobbit turned back and seemed to disappear but as Thorin drew closer he could see he was weeding in his garden. Thorin took a moment to appreciate the pert backside clothed in the short pants that Hobbits were so fond of. </p><p>He cleared his throat a few times to clear the road dust. “Excuse me Master Hobbit,” Thorin’s voice was gruff after so long alone. His pony jostled in her reins and stomped for attention. Thorin soothed her, silently promising a cool drink soon.</p><p>The Hobbit looked up from his garden and Thorin’s breath caught in his throat. The sunlight hit the Hobbit’s hair and made him almost gold, the lighter color radiant against the darker jewel tones of the plants and earth. </p><p>“Good afternoon, Master Dwarf.” His face was pleasant, surprisingly welcoming. The Hobbits Thorin had done business with were mostly suspicious, insular creatures- caring for their kin and their land, but not much else. They were a people who placed importance on propriety and respectability, and Thorin was neither proper nor respectable in his rough clothes and boots dusty from travel.</p><p>“Good afternoon, can you give me directions to the market in Bree? I seem to have gotten turned around in these hills.” This was not Thorin’s first time through the Shire, but the last few times he had travelled with others who were more familiar with the paths. It irked him to admit it but he wouldn’t let his pride keep him lost for hours.</p><p>The Hobbit used his hand to shade his face as he squinted up at Thorin. “They are quite wandering. Not many a straight road in the Shire. Bree is east only a few hours by pony, but there won’t be a market today. Or not much of one, there’s a birthday celebration down at the Party Tree this eve, everyone is preparing for that.”</p><p>Thorin’s face must have done something to betray his disappointment because the Hobbit shrugged almost apologetically. “We Hobbits were made for comfortable things, Master Dwarf. Simple things. There’s not much else a Hobbit loves more than a good party. Coin can’t compare to a warm summer’s eve and time spent with good friends.”</p><p>So far from his family and friends, Thorin couldn’t argue. He dipped his head. “If more of us valued food and cheer and song, it would be a merrier world.” </p><p>The Hobbit smiled wider. “That is the truth. You look tired Master Dwarf, would you like to come in for something to drink? It’s nearly time for afternoon tea.”</p><p>Thorin found himself nodding before he could think twice. This Hobbit was not like any Halfling he had met before and Thorin found himself wanting to know him. “But call me Thorin.”</p><p>Bilbo unlatched the gate and it swung wildly before hanging off-kilter on its hinge. “Well-met, Thorin. Bilbo Baggins, at your service. You can bring your pony and cart around the side, just keep her away from my prized flowers.” </p><p>-----</p><p>Bilbo’s scones were like nothing Thorin had eaten before. Buttery and crisp, the sharp lemon a perfect complement to the strong tea placed in front of him. Thorin tried not to betray how hungry he was and limited himself to two. </p><p>“It was very kind of you to invite me in,” Thorin looked up as Bilbo took a seat at the table after fixing his own tea. </p><p>“Think nothing of it,” Bilbo waved his hand dismissively. “You looked weary, and I know Dwarves don’t eat as often as Hobbits do but few beings can say no to the offer of food. ” Thorin chuckled but had to nod in agreement. </p><p>“Where are you coming from? We see travellers in Bree but not often those who pass through the Shire.”</p><p>“I am most recently from Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains,” he used the Westron name at Bilbo’s confused frown. </p><p>“Ah, I see. I’ve heard about the Blue Mountains from a good friend. A difficult journey, Mister Thorin.” Bilbo didn’t try at subtlety, he just pushed the plate of scones towards Thorin and poured more tea. </p><p>“Please, just Thorin. The journey was not so bad. I was with a caravan of my people but they are moving further north. I’ve been taking work in the towns of Men but I wanted to try new markets.” Thorin ate half of a scone in one bite, much to Bilbo's amusement.</p><p>“Thorin, then.” Bilbo looked pleased and leaned back in his chair. “You’ll be most welcome here. Though your commissions won’t be anything worth of a Dwarven smithing, we’re not warriors here. It’s horseshoes and farming tools around these parts.” The Hobbit laughed warmly. “But Bree has a good market and there’s always the Rangers who might need something crafted.”</p><p>Thorin laughed. “There was a time when I would agree with you, but I have learned that farming tools have their own value. A Dwarven rake will never break, no matter how rocky your field.”</p><p>“In that case, perhaps I’ll have to commission you for new gardening tools, my trowel has gotten quite dull.” Bilbo grinned. </p><p>Bilbo kept Thorin talking about his travels, time in Rohan and different towns in the south until late in the evening. Thorin was relating a story about the Horse Lords’ disdain for shoeing their mounts that had Bilbo gasping in laughter when Thorin heard a loud noise and shouts. He was half out of his chair and reaching for the sword he had left by the door when he realized it was a celebratory noise and not alarm. </p><p>He and Bilbo looked out of the window and seemed to realize at the same time that night had fallen. </p><p>“Oh, I had not realized how late it was. I have kept you from your Hobbit celebration.” Thorin felt a pang at the thought of leaving but knew he must push on to find somewhere suitable to rest, surely the gates of Bree were closed by now. </p><p>“Ah. Yes, well. I wasn’t invited.” Bilbo’s smile was gone when Thorin looked over from where he was staring into the dark. Bilbo was silent for a moment and then rushed out the rest. “I should have mentioned it before offering you company - in the Shire I’m considered disreputable. I don’t believe it will ruin your reputation as a smith, please believe me.”</p><p>Thorin straightened in surprise. Bilbo stood by his cozy chair with his hair combed neatly, his brown waistcoat looked new and none of his clothes were stained.  “You? Disreputable? Bilbo, you have these little towels with holes, and you invited me to tea because I looked tired. You can hardly be a scoundrel.” He spoke carefully, bewildered again at Hobbit culture. </p><p>Bilbo broke into laughter. “Thorin, my poor reputation doesn’t have to do with doilies. I’m- I’m not a respectable Hobbit, for all that I’m a Baggins.”</p><p>He stared into his fireplace and Thorin noticed he was squeezing his hands until they were white. Belatedly, he realized Bilbo was nervous. “You don’t -” </p><p>“In the Shire, there are things that are just not done. I don’t always agree, and that causes problems with the others.” Bilbo offered a pale imitation of the joyful smile he had shared with Thorin all evening. Suddenly, desperately, Thorin wanted it back.</p><p>“I have never been overly concerned about what others believe about me. And if they would disparage one who offers comfort to a lost Dwarf, then their opinion means even less.” It wasn't until Bilbo’s shoulders sank back down that Thorin realized how important his reaction had been to the Hobbit.</p><p>“I- I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. You must stay, you can’t leave for Bree at this hour. Here, I’ll make up the guest room.”</p><p>Thorin reached out and caught Bilbo’s wrist and the Hobbit flitted past. “Bilbo, you don’t have to house me. I’m a stranger to you and I promise that it would not be my first night sleeping under the stars.”</p><p>Bilbo looked up into Thorin’s eyes, a stubborn look on his face. “No Mister Thorin, you must stay. What kind of a host would I be if I sent you out at this hour? It’s just not done.”</p><p>----</p><p>Bright sunshine and birdsong woke Thorin in the morning. He stretched out on the mattress, the ticking a comfortable feel after so many nights on the road. </p><p>Thorin stretched and took a deep breath. Bilbo was already awake, from the sounds he could hear coming from outside his door and the delicious smells wafting in. Thorin felt a smile grow on his face as he imagined Bilbo’s stubborn look. Thorin wouldn’t be able to leave without at least a hearty meal.</p><p>Bilbo was kind and gentle, so different from others Thorin had spent time with. Soft, and caring. Thorin’s thoughts wandered to thinking of gems that would complement Bilbo’s eyes, the designs Thorin could craft for jewelry that would accent his delicate features. He’d never felt this attraction before but he had heard his sister speak of it when she had first laid eyes on her One. His thoughts came screeching to a stop. Mahal save him, a Hobbit? </p><p>Thorin sat up suddenly. Surely he was wrong. A Hobbit? No. He firmly put those thoughts aside and rose to dress. After splashing water on his face, he rebraided his hair and then went to join his host in the kitchen. </p><p>Bilbo put Thorin in mind of a bird, fluttering from the stove to the table, back to the sink, to the pantry. His waistcoat was an emerald green this morning and Thorin didn’t even need Bilbo to turn around for Thorin to know he was smiling. Mahal save him, a Hobbit was his One. Dis would laugh herself sick. </p><p>“Thorin, good morning.” Bilbo’s smile was brighter than the sunshine outside. “Please, have a seat. You’re just in time for breakfast.”</p><p>The handle on the pot that he was cooking with gave a great wobble and almost upset the food, but Bilbo shifted carefully to keep it balanced. It was a practiced move; the pot had been broken for some time then. </p><p>“Good morning. Do you need any assistance?” Bilbo was shaking his head before Thorin had finished the question. </p><p>“Just sit, it will be on the table right quick.”</p><p>Thorin sat and found tea already poured for him. He sipped at it and cleared his throat. “I appreciate your generosity, how can I repay you?”</p><p>Again Bilbo was shaking his head before Thorin could finish. “Oh no, that wouldn’t do. A host’s responsibility is to the comfort of his guest. My mum would turn in her grave if I’d done any less.” </p><p>Bilbo plated up the sausages and potatoes, offering a larger portion to Thorin. He accepted with a nod of thanks.</p><p> “A place to rest and such good food, surely there’s something? An honorable Dwarf always repays his debts.” Bilbo was looking stubborn again so Thorin offered an alternate. “If you won’t take payment perhaps I could use my skill?” Thorin nodded back to the stove and the broken pot. Bilbo went pink, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. </p><p>“Surely fixing cookery is below your mastery,” he tried to protest. “And besides, you were waylaid on your trip to Bree. I wouldn’t want to make you late for anything.”</p><p>“Bilbo,” Thorin leaned forward. “To help you, I would welcome the delay.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This chapter was written while I was listening to Peter Hollen's Spotify playlist Misty Mountains: Songs Inspired by The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bilbo, never having needed to keep a pony before, had quite forgotten about her and the smallish cart Thorin had brought with him on his journey. Upon seeing it again, he vividly remembered Thorin perched so handsomely on the bench, with the setting sun behind him.</p>
<p>Thorin had staked the pony out in the great field behind Bilbo’s smial on a lead long enough for her to wander into the shade of the large tree and he had set out a makeshift trough of water to keep her through the night. </p>
<p>Bilbo watched as Thorin first fed his pony and checked her over. Much of this was foreign to Bilbo but he was curious and so he stepped closer to where Thorin was stroking her neck with one of his large hands.</p>
<p>“She’s a lovely pony,” Bilbo ventured timidly. </p>
<p>Thorin turned and Bilbo had to look away from those serious cornflower blue eyes. “Aye, she’s been a sturdy companion during my travels. Her name translates to Swish-Tail.” He then smiled wryly. “I let one of my sister-sons name her when he was but a Dwarfling.”</p>
<p>“How old is he now? Does he live in the Blue Mountains?”</p>
<p>Thorin nodded and started toward his cart. Bilbo trotted along behind him with his wobbly pot from breakfast. “I have a sister, Dis, who lives in Ered Luin with her sons, Fili and Kili. They are grown Dwarves now but I will always think of them as the little scamps who would tie my bootlaces together and put frogs in my pillowcases.” </p>
<p>Bilbo was delighted to think about Dwarflings playing pranks like fauntlings. “They sound so mischievous, are they also blacksmiths?”</p>
<p>“Fili has learned smithing as a necessity but he prefers to craft with precious metals when he can. Kili is still young yet to have decided on a mastery.” Thorin opened the back of his cart and rummaged through boxes of items Bilbo couldn’t identify before he motioned for Bilbo to hand over the pot.</p>
<p>Bilbo clutched his wobbly pot to his chest once before relinquishing it. Embarrassment still stung his cheeks when he thought of the Dwarf seeing his cookery in such disrepair but he had to be honest about how excited he was that Thorin could perhaps fix it.</p>
<p>It wasn’t as if Bilbo were a poor Hobbit- he had the means to purchase new pots but he had always hesitated. These were the pots his mother had cooked with, had taught him her family’s recipes with, and this particular wobbly pot was her favorite. He couldn’t bear to cast it aside, so when Thorin offered to fix it Bilbo hadn’t protested too hard even though taking payment for seeing to the comfort of his guest was against every Hobbitish bone in his body. Surely his adventurous mother would have been tickled pink to know a Dwarf was mending one of her pots.</p>
<p>And perhaps Bilbo felt a little thrill to realize Thorin would use this as a reason to stay at least a little longer. </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>After a while Bilbo left Thorin to tinker in his little forge and went to make luncheon. His thoughts were filled with Thorin’s tales of journeys and all of the peoples he had met. Bilbo had always been more like his mother than his father had been comfortable with, the staid Baggins that he was. </p>
<p>A knock on the door anchored his attention back to reality and he wiped his hands on a dishtowel on his way to open it. About to tease Thorin for knocking when he knew he was welcome, Bilbo was caught off-guard to see his cousin Drogo standing on his porch.</p>
<p>“Oh, hello Drogo! What a fine day it is to have you come visit.” Bilbo smiled warmly and motioned him inside only to be surprised again when little Frodo peaked out from behind his father’s legs. “Frodo, my lad, welcome to you too. It’s just about time for luncheon if you both would like to join us.”</p>
<p>Frodo lost his shyness and grinned toothily. “Yes please, Uncle Bilbo, sir.” Drogo huffed a laugh and patted his son on the shoulder. </p>
<p>“We were just calling around to give you this, but we could do for a nibble.” Drogo handed over a letter, the heavy weight of the parchment giving away the contents. Only birthday invitations were written on such paper, and Bilbo was a little surprised to receive it and had to swallow a few times before he could smile widely.</p>
<p>“Of course, of course. Come in, please.” Bilbo ushered them inside and then looked about for Thorin before realizing he would have to fetch the Dwarf in a few moments if he didn’t show soon. </p>
<p>Just as he was closing the door Bilbo caught sight of Thorin ambling around the corner, a pleased grin on his face and Bilbo’s mother’s pot in his large hands. He unlatched the front gate and it swung wildly, the hinges were old and had become uneven.</p>
<p>“You’re almost Hobbitish in your timing for luncheon, I was just about to serve it.” Thorin reset the gate and handed over the pot. Bilbo smiled at him and shivered when Thorin brushed a hand down Bilbo’s side as he passed into the smial. He smelled of warm things and something unique to the Dwarf and Bilbo was entranced as he followed the Dwarf inside. </p>
<p>“What do you think?” Bilbo flushed, thinking his admiration was plain on his face, but Thorin’s gaze was on the pot. </p>
<p>Bilbo spent a moment admiring the quality of work and he swished it around a few times to test the handle. Sensing no flaws, Bilbo looked up to compliment Thorin when he noticed the silence in the room. </p>
<p>Thorin was staring with an unreadable look on his face at Bilbo’s cousin and Frodo who were sitting around Bilbo’s table chatting amiably. </p>
<p>“Ah, Thorin, this is Drogo Baggins and his son Frodo. They are cousins of a sort, and here to bring me a letter. I invited them to our luncheon. Drogo, Frodo, this is Mister Thorin, a smith on his way into Bree for work.” Introductions finished, Bilbo went to the kitchen and set his pot down by the sink for a wash later. </p>
<p>He plated up the sandwiches and began to steep the tea. Frodo appeared at his elbow suddenly and Bilbo jumped in surprise.</p>
<p>“Uncle Bilbo, do you need help with the trays?”</p>
<p>“Yes, thank you Frodo. Please take these sandwiches and I will be out in a moment with the tea and scones.”</p>
<p>Bilbo joined them at the table and noticed that Thorin had taken a moment to wash a bit and change his shirt to a very fetching dark blue tunic.</p>
<p>“It is my birthday party soon,” Drogo was saying to Thorin. “Frodo and I were about Hobbiton delivering invitations. You are welcome as well, though your name is not on the invitation. If you are in the Shire through tomorrow night, of course.” </p>
<p>Thorin glanced at Bilbo and then away. “Ah, Bilbo has mentioned Hobbit birthday parties are quite the celebration. Dwarves are not much for birthdays, but this is an interesting custom I should like to see. And to meet other Hobbits, as Bilbo has been quite a considerate host and I am eager to make the acquaintance of his friends,” Thorin said casually. </p>
<p>Drogo gave Thorin an evaluating look but Thorin’s attention stayed on his food. Bilbo cleared his throat, not sure what was being said without words. “Yes, well. Then we will be pleased to join the celebration, Drogo. And-and I thank you for the invitation,” he said, probably a bit too honest but unable to help himself. </p>
<p>Frodo saved the moment from its seriousness by knocking over his teacup while reaching desperately for the last bit of scone and the rest of luncheon was spent talking about what endlessly hungry little beings that all children were. </p>
<p>After Drogo and Frodo said their farewells and left to finish delivering invitations, Thorin was quiet as he washed the luncheon dishes. Bilbo dried and placed them away in their cabinets, wondering if Thorin was already regretting accepting the invitation to remain around Hobbiton instead of continuing along to Bree. </p>
<p>“Thorin. If you would rather travel to Bree as you had planned before you were swept away into Hobbit parties and fixing my cookery, I will tell Drogo and he will not be offended, I promise.”</p>
<p>Thorin turned and placed his wet, soapy hands on the towel Bilbo was twisting nervously. “Bilbo I would be happy to attend the celebration but I do realize we met only yesterday and you were not expecting to offer me a place to stay for one night, let alone three, when you invited me in for tea.” Thorin smiled gently. “I would understand if you preferred me to continue on, surely you do not have to bring me to your family celebrations.”</p>
<p>Bilbo laughed, relieved. “Ah, Hobbit birthday celebrations are not only for family; Drogo will have invited all of Hobbiton, Michel Delvin, Frogmorton, and quite a few others as well. Beside that, I do wish for you to stay. It has been nice to have a companion about my smial and in any case I feel as if I’ve known you for much longer than a day,” Bilbo ventured quietly. </p>
<p>Thorin squeezed his hands and went back to the washing. Just when Bilbo thought Thorin wouldn’t comment, he added, “I feel as if I’ve known you as well, Bilbo Baggins.” And Bilbo’s little Hobbit heart beat faster in his chest.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Bilbo was restless the day of Drogo’s party. Thorin and he had spent first breakfast and second breakfast talking about the Shire, and after that Thorin had spent his day in his forge-cart. Bilbo went about his morning and made jam with early strawberries. He ate a light snack at elevenses, made some savory bread, and then put together food for luncheon. </p>
<p>When Thorin failed to appear in time to eat in the kitchen, he packed up the Dwarf’s portion and went to find him. Bilbo immediately saw that Hamfast Gamgee was just leaving Thorin’s cart after shaking the Dwarf’s hand. With a wave, he called out a greeting to Bilbo and continued along around the hill. </p>
<p>Thorin greeted Bilbo and ducked back into his cart for a moment before stepping out to meet Bilbo. “I thank you for bringing me meals, though I hope you know I can fend for myself as I wouldn’t want to be a strain on your hospitality.”</p>
<p>Bilbo scoffed. “Thorin, it is not so much for me to make a bit more when I am already cooking myself a meal. I am happy to do so.”</p>
<p>Thorin ducked his head in acquiescence. “Well, thank you for your efforts.” Bilbo pulled out an apple he had put in his waistcoat pocket and wandered to Thorin’s pony. Swish-Tail seemed happy for the gift and Bilbo laughed to feel her soft lips tickle his hand as she delicately pulled the apple into her mouth. As she munched happily, Bilbo turned back to see that Thorin was watching him. </p>
<p>“Ah, I’m sorry, I should have asked,” Bilbo turned red and began to stutter but Thorin shook his head.</p>
<p>“No, it is quite alright. My sister-sons will sneak her bits of cubed sugar to gain her favor, so by that comparison an apple is very welcome.” Bilbo laughed. </p>
<p>However, Thorin watched him with a considering look on his face. “Would you like to go for a ride? I do not know the Shire well, but I would think there are woods around here that would make for a quiet afternoon out.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I couldn’t.” Bilbo was quick to decline and hesitated before confessing, “I’ve never ridden a pony before, I wouldn’t know how.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Thorin nodded as if decided. “Then we shall go together.”</p>
<p>Feeling bold and Tookish for the first time in what felt like ages, Bilbo asked, “Could we go tomorrow?” </p>
<p>Thorin’s smile was a sunrise and Bilbo almost sighed aloud at the beauty of it. “Of course. Though I hope you will let me fix your front gate. It could benefit from new iron hinges and latch.”</p>
<p>Bilbo nodded eagerly, too pleased that Thorin would stay another day to be overly embarrassed at the broken state of his front gate.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>For the party, Bilbo wore his best goldenrod waistcoat and deep green trousers. He tidied his hair and after the fourth time he tugged on his clothes to set them just right he blew out a nervous breath and left his room. He almost bumped into Thorin in the hallway who had left his room at almost the same time. </p>
<p>Bilbo was speechless as he took in the deep-blue-almost-black tunic Thorin was wearing. It had silver embroidered mosaics done in Dwarven designs along the trim. His hair was brushed and his braids were redone, the beads sparkled brightly against the darkness of his hair. After a moment Thorin ventured, “Am I dressed appropriately? Should I change?”</p>
<p>“No,” Bilbo’s immediate denial softened the tight line of Thorin’s shoulders and he realized that perhaps Thorin was nervous about the party. He cleared his throat. “No, you look very well.”</p>
<p>Thorin’s smile was small, but he replied, “I like the color of your waistcoat.” Bilbo beamed at him and ran his hands down to tug it straight for the fifth time.</p>
<p>He let out a breath and straightened. “Then shall we? The walk is not far to the Party Tree.”</p>
<p>Thorin huffed out a laugh as he followed Bilbo. “You look as if you were marching to war.”</p>
<p>Bilbo grimaced. “Dealing with some of my family takes a strong spine. Drogo and his wife are the best of the lot, with little Frodo. But Prim is a Brandybuck and in the Shire, Brandybuck means odd. Not as strange as the Tooks who tend to be flighty, but Brandybucks live on the edge of the Old Forest and so they sometimes hold different customs from Hobbits who are deep in the Shire.” </p>
<p>Thorin nodded. “Brandybuck, is that a clan?”</p>
<p>They turned east and could start to see the bright lights of the Party Tree. In the daytime this path was beautiful, as it skirted along the water. “Not as you’d think of clans. They’re family names and while all Hobbits are related to some degree, your closest family will share your last name. Unless of course you marry into another family and then change it.”</p>
<p>“Ah, I think I understand.” Thorin hummed thoughtfully. “For Dwarves, your clan also follows bloodlines but it would not necessarily be part of your name. My sister-son, for example, is Kili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain. But we are Longbeards by clan.”</p>
<p>Bilbo had more questions about names, such as why was Kili’s mother named but not his father’s line? Hobbits were patrilinear and only when the patriarch of a family died did his wife become the matriarch. However, they were soon upon the party and his attention was caught up on music and the delicious food he could smell. Enormous white tents sat on the edges of a large space decorated with bright colors, flags, flowers, and tablecloths. Tables were arrayed around a dancing space, with a stage set in front of the tree and the musicians already caught up in their songs.</p>
<p>Bilbo solicitously introduced his guest around and everyone was respectful if not overly welcoming, but it was a better showing than Bilbo had expected. He left Thorin talking with Primula about boating, of all things, and went to gather refreshments.  </p>
<p>No sooner was Bilbo at the buffet table than his aunt from his father’s side was upon him with Hilda Bracegirdle dragged along. “Bilbo, I haven’t seen you out in ages, it’s good of you to be sociable and join us.” Bilbo politely smiled and refrained from commenting that he wasn’t unsociable, he just wasn’t invited out to many parties.</p>
<p>“Linda, Hilda, you both look well. How have your summers been?”</p>
<p>“Oh you know, it’s been a busy time in the garden but I make time for working on my recipes.” Bilbo nodded noncommittally and tried to detach himself from the conversation to focus better on the buffet, but Linda kept talking.</p>
<p>“I saw the Dwarf you brought along, he makes a fine figure. Very Tookish of you to be putting him up in your extra room.” It was a pointed, thinly veiled insult and Bilbo tried to ignore it.</p>
<p>“Ah, well I’m sure he’s very pleasant. Is he a friend from, um, well, from before?” Hilda asked clumsily. She looked as if she would prefer the ground to swallow her whole. Bilbo chuckled and was suddenly more fond of Hilda, who had tried to turn the conversation and then stumbled right into That Which Was Not Addressed. </p>
<p>“No, he is a recent acquaintance.” They certainly didn’t need to know it was only two days; there was enough gossip being spread already. “Hilda, I have heard talk that your brother has a new homebrew that is debuting soon.”</p>
<p>“Oh yes,” she was visibly relieved at the topic change. “Yes, Hugo has been very secretive of this recipe, but he’s quite proud of it.”</p>
<p>“Well, then I shall look for it soon to try. Is he here tonight?” Bilbo looked around for Hugo but his eyes snagged on Thorin. More specifically, and his eyes widened at the realization, how Thorin was conversing with Bilbo’s grandmother. “Oh, if you’ll excuse me,” he said absently and was off before he could hear if Linda or Hilda had responded.</p>
<p>“Grandmother Adamanta!” Bilbo squeaked out, probably interrupting and not caring overmuch. Adamanta was the Took Matriarch but she had always been fond of Bilbo and willing to overlook any eccentricities. </p>
<p>“Hello, Bilbo, dear.” Adamanta allowed him to kiss her cheek in greeting. “I was just speaking with your delightful Dwarf friend.” A quick glance confirmed the slightly pink cheeks mostly hidden by Thorin’s beard. “He was arguing, politely of course, with Lobelia and I thought I would save him the trouble.” She winked.</p>
<p>Bilbo laughed, “Yes, thank you. I hadn’t warned him. I’m sorry, Thorin. Lobelia has always coveted Bag End and is quite vexed that I’m still in residence.” Thorin didn’t seem to find this amusing but Adamanta was talking before he could respond.</p>
<p>“In any case, Bilbo you are looking so thin! Are you taking care? I know it has been a troubling time, but that’s no excuse for missed meals.” Bilbo looked at her sharply, unhappy at the topic and not sure he wanted Thorin to be hearing this. But she just smiled at him, gentle concern in her eyes and his anger fled. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Thorin.</p>
<p>“Yes, Grandmother. Perhaps I’ve been spending more time with my garden and I’ve missed elevenses a few times, but all is well.” She reached out to hug him.</p>
<p>“Well Belladonna, your dear mother, would have been so proud of you, never mind the rest of these Hobbits.” She scoffed and waved a dismissive hand at the group gathered for the party.  </p>
<p>Bilbo’s eyes prickled and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well. It is over and I am home. And I’ve been introducing Thorin to the Hobbit manner of meals.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Bilbo is a very gracious host,” Thorin added with more seriousness than the comment warranted. “I cannot imagine a better Hobbit to spend my time in the Shire with.”</p>
<p>At that, Adamanta beamed broadly and pulled a surprised Thorin into a hug. “Yes, I quite agree. Now, both of you off to the buffet before the dancing starts.” She shooed at them.</p>
<p>Bilbo and Thorin happily filled their plates and mugs before finding a smaller table out of the main crowd in which to sit at. “Drogo will have a speech soon, then there will be presents and then dancing.”</p>
<p>“Presents?” Thorin queried before stuffing an entire roll in his mouth. </p>
<p>“Oh yes, Hobbits love gifts. Both giving and receiving, and for birthdays all of those in attendance will receive a small mathom. Those are items that have no use but are pretty to look at. They’re often regifted at the next birthday party, so it’s not unheard of for a Hobbit to receive the same gift he gave out after it changing hands through the Shire.” Bilbo laughed at Thorin’s confusion.</p>
<p>--- </p>
<p>Thorin took to the Hobbit dances with good humor. He was quick on his feet and it didn’t take very long for him to remember the steps as he was whirled around by Hobbit lasses. More interesting to Bilbo, though he tried to deny it to himself, was that Thorin danced a few times with daring Hobbit lads as well. He was a dark figure among the brightly colored Hobbits, and at least a head taller than any on the dancefloor but he was very graceful for all his inexperience with Hobbit dances.  </p>
<p>“Come, Bilbo! Join the dance, we need another to have even pairs.” Estella Bolger pulled at Bilbo’s hand until he put his mug of ale down and she cheered.</p>
<p>He took his place in the round and was quickly swept away, laughing and twisting around other dancers. Somehow he ended the set partnered with Thorin who just raised an eyebrow with a small smile around his mouth. Bilbo looked around and saw Estella flirting madly with Meriadoc Brandybuck and wasn’t that very interesting. </p>
<p>Bilbo tried not to stare too much or often at Thorin, but he couldn’t help but admire the sharp lines of his face accented by dark beard. Thorin had small beads of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks were pink from exertion. His mouth was serious with concentration but his deep blue eyes gave away his happiness to be dancing. Bilbo didn’t think it was his imagination that Thorin held him closer and a beat longer than the dance called for. Bilbo’s heart beat faster than what could be explained by the pace of the dance and he  leaned into Thorin to stay close in the Dwarf’s warm embrace.</p>
<p>Thorin didn’t let go of his hand after the song ended, instead he pulled Bilbo away from the other dancers as they started again and marched through the crowd. He didn’t stop at where they had left their plates and continued on to a less crowded edge of the revelry until they were behind one of the great tents. Bilbo had half-thought that Thorin was upset and had an apology on his lips before he realized it was Thorin instead. </p>
<p>After a second of astonishment, Bilbo responded. Their kiss was wet, slow until Thorin opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. Bilbo was helpless to do anything but follow as he was swept away. The noise of the party was silenced and all of the air disappeared from Bilbo’s chest. Too soon he found the lack of air a problem and Bilbo let his lips break away gently and he found his hands tangled in Thorin’s hair. Thorin had his hands around Bilbo’s waist and he brought their foreheads together gently. They stayed like that, staring into each other’s eyes and sharing breath until a pack of fauntlings rushed by and knocked into Bilbo’s legs. </p>
<p>They broke apart, laughing breathlessly. Thorin caressed Bilbo’s cheek, a flash of an unreadable look on his face before it melted into a sweet smile, and then he slid his hand down to tangle their fingers together.</p>
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